


Tell Me What's Wrong

by Charming Delinquent (Raven_Ehtar)



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Comfort, Gen, Logic Doesn't Hug, Panic Attacks, Virgil needs a hug, but he tries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 06:32:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15237483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_Ehtar/pseuds/Charming%20Delinquent
Summary: Patton isn't the only one who can help Virgil out of an anxiety attack. Methods simply differ.





	Tell Me What's Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so. I wrote this on a whim and I'm right on that cusp of 'if I don't post this it'll annoy me forever' and 'this should never see the light of day.' So it's going up, but it might disappear at any point if my embarrassment gets the better of me.
> 
> And Then There Were None © Dame Agatha Chriistie.  
> Here Comes a Thought © Rebecca Sugar.

“Virgil. Virgil. Virgil, can you hear me?”

It took a moment, but eventually there was a tiny nod, enough to show that the young man wasn’t completely unaware of his surroundings. It was reassuring, and Logan felt confident enough to squat down beside him.

Unkempt in an ironically careful way, hair flopping forward into eyes still underlined with smudged liner, Virgil looked even worse than usual. Normally the pretense of slobbiness was exactly that: a pretense, or perhaps an exaggeration. Now, though, what Virgil did to himself in some sort of misguided attempt at style only served to highlight how terrible he really looked. 

He was paler than usual, his hair sticking out at odd angles from where he had been combing his fingers through it, pulling, or hiding inside his hoodie. There was a very fine sheen of sweat on his face, which was making his liner smear. His eyes were simultaneously too bright, too wide, and yet unfocussed. His breathing, too, was erratic, although that wasn’t immediately obvious, as his breaths were quick but shallow. If one were passing by him, they might not even notice anything out of the ordinary. Logan almost had, until he saw that Virgil, who he thought was simply sulking in a corner again, was rocking ever so slightly. It caught his attention, and when Virgil hadn’t responded to his greeting with even a grunt, he had decided to do a visual check. 

And found Virgil like this. 

It was a very quiet example, but Logan knew a panic attack when he saw one. He’s seen them often enough to recognize them, even if he didn’t have all of the potential markers for it memorized. Which he did. 

He knew Virgil was experiencing a panic attack. He’d ascertained that Virgil could hear and understand him. He was sitting within easy arm’s reach and Virgil’s condition didn’t seem to be worsening. So far, so good. Next up would be to attempt to bring Virgil a little out of his panic, to break whatever sort of feedback loop was taking place in his head and get him back to a calm place. 

“Virgil, I want you to listen to me, alright? Focus on me and try to block out everything else. Just focus on my voice and your breathing. Do you think you can handle that?”

He waited, and after a moment he received a short nod. 

“Alright, then. Now focus, please, Virgil.” He opened the book he had been carrying with him, flipping it back to the beginning, and began to read in as steady a voice as possible. “’In the corner of a first-class smoking carriage, Mr. Justice Wargrave, lately retired from the bench, puffed at a cigar and ran an uninterested eye through the political news in _The Times…_ ’”

If it had been Patton who had come across Virgil instead of him, doubtless the cure would have been much more touchy-feely, both literally and figuratively. Patton was without doubt the most… _affectionate_ of the four of them, even with Roman. When faced with someone who was upset, Patton could be expected to approach the problem with hugs, soup and a gushing ramble of all that person’s good and admirable qualities. It was effective in its own way, though Logan would point out – and had – that coming at someone experiencing an anxiety attack with physical contact and what could feel like a mental overload was not the wisest of methods. Still, Patton _had_ helped Virgil out of the occasional attack, so there must have been something useful in what the puppy-facet did.

Logan was much less exuberant. He didn’t go in much for physical contact, or in effusive compliment giving, though he was also no stranger to them. Still, it was only when he was certain that his reading was having some effect that he attempted to put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. 

Virgil jumped slightly, not expecting the contact, and tensed. As Logan continued to read, however, he relaxed again, and seemed to relax even further than he had before. 

Having a hand just resting on someone felt awkward, but it seemed to help, so Logan left it. Whether it was the heat of his palm, the weight on his shoulder, or just knowing there was someone right there with him, physical contact appeared beneficial. Logan could stand a little awkwardness if it helped Virgil. 

“’Outside Oakbridge station a little group of people stood in momentary uncertainty. Behind them stood—‘”

“What is that?”

Logan looked up. Virgil’s rocking had stopped, and he felt much less tense under his hand. He wasn’t looking at Logan, though. However much he had calmed, they still weren’t quite up to eye contact yet.

“ _And Then There Were None_ by Agatha Christie.”

There was a pause, and then, “Is that one of those Hercule Poirot things?”

Logan smiled a little. Asking questions, taking an interest, even if it was faked. Good signs. “No, it’s one of her standalone novels. Rather cleverly put together, in fact.”

“Murder mystery?”

“Yes.”

“Terrible choice to read to someone who’s stressed out, Teach.”

Logan snorted and, deciding he was well enough to no longer need it, took his hand away. “It was more a question of what was at hand rather than suitability. Next time I’ll be sure to fetch something a little less stimulating.”

Virgil’s shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, as though to say it didn’t matter to him either way. In a rare little flash of personal insight Logan saw that he would prefer to stick to _And Then There Were None,_ but wasn’t willing to say so. Logan made a mental note to always have it near at hand for next time.

Logan rearranged himself into a more comfortable position on the floor. Virgil was better, but probably not _better_ yet.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Virgil shifted without looking at him. “Why would I want to do that?”

It was Logan’s turn to shrug, even though Virgil wouldn’t see it. “Talking out a problem with a second party often has the effect of lessening the problem’s perceived importance. Even should no solutions be reached or even advice given, many find that simply discussing their difficulties makes them feel better.”

“So you’re offering to be a ‘Dear Diary’ entry?”

“If you would prefer advice or help in reaching a practical solution, than I would be happy to assist. It _is_ what I do.”

“Mmph.”

Logan tilted his head as the silence stretched on, trying to catch sight of Virgil’s face. At some point he had raised his knees, folded his arms on top and rested his forehead against his forearms so his face was hidden behind his hair, buried in his arms. 

“I can’t help you unless I know what’s wrong, Virgil.”

He shifted again, curling in on himself like an armadillo. Or a pillbug. Which weren’t really insects but a kind of terrestrial crustacean, which would make Virgil a pouty lobster in a hoodie and _now wasn’t the time, focus Logan._

“It’s just… thoughts. I guess.”

“Alright, then. What sorts of thoughts?”

Shift, shift. “Bad ones, whatdya think, Brainiac? …I was wondering what it would be like if… any of us disappeared. We weren’t always like this, so, you know. What if we went back to the way we were before, we were… _people._ What would we do if one of us disappeared? And,” his voice caught. He cleared his throat, his voice even more muffled than before. “You know Thomas hates me. He never wants me around. If anyone is going to go, it’s me. None of you like me. If I go, everyone would be happier.”

For a while Logan said nothing, waiting to see if there was any more forthcoming. When nothing came, he nodded to himself. “Alright. Would you like to hear my take on this?”

He shrugged. Logan took that as acceptance. 

“First off, I doubt if Thomas would ever lose us, any of us, as we are now. Our human forms are so much a part of his consciousness now that even should he stop making videos for whatever reason, he would remember us and keep us close to his heart. You know how he is with friends and people in general. We’ve been given distinct personalities, so even though we are all parts of him, we are also his friends. _And,_ in a strange way, because we have been shared with so many people, we are even more firmly entrenched in reality as human allegories.

“Second, Thomas does _not_ hate you. He dislikes how his anxiety makes him feel when it becomes too much. But you are someone with his own personality, and Thomas enjoys spending time with _you._ ”

“Yeah, right,” Virgil grumbled. “He likes my _personality?_ He likes nothing that I do, and yeah, the rest of you can’t stand me.”

Logan held back a sigh. “Virgil, do you know all of what it is you actually do for Thomas?”

“Duh. Feel panicked, frozen, useless. Held him back from fun activities and meeting new people. Reminded him of mistakes and kept him up all night. Such a likable gremlin, me.”

“Well, there is that,” Logan admitted. He had to admit it because it was a fact and he was the logical side. However, “But there are also positives to having you around.”

“Pff. Such as what? Help him set a world record for avoiding human contact?”

“Allow me to provide you with a bullet point list.”

“Bullet points?”

“Imagine them. You provide Thomas an early warning sign when something is wrong, keeping him out of danger, or just out of toxic relationships. You make him a more careful thinker, planner, problem solver and creator. You make Thomas appreciate those moments that are completely peaceful so much more. His experience with anxiety has given him more experience and made it easier for him to express his vulnerability. Having you around has made Thomas much more empathic, and therefore made it easier for him to interact with others.”

Virgil didn’t respond for a while, and then a longer while. Logan smiled. 

“You see, you are a positive influence on Thomas and on the rest of us.”

“Doesn’t mean any of you like me.”

“Perhaps it doesn’t, but we do in any case. Patton loves everyone, freely and without restraint. Roman, while he doth protest, does not hate you, and knows that you help with his creativity. And I… I like you as well.” Logan adjusted his glasses, uncomfortable with the admission of any feelings. It went against the grain.

Virgil shifted again, turning his head a little so one eye showed. “Really?”

“Of course.” He cleared his throat. “I know these things, which means Thomas knows them as well, and by extension the others, too.”

“Huh.”

They stopped talking, Virgil letting his stare wander away. Observing him, Logan could see that his breathing had calmed, his shoulders unhitched, and most of the tenseness of his face had melted away. But he was still curled up like a tiny wood lobster, very still and staring off into space. Logan began to worry that all of the logical bullet points he’d given hadn’t been enough.

Well, then. If logic alone wasn’t enough, he could shake it up on his own without having to call in the others. He thought about it. What would Roman or Patton do to help that didn’t involve too much touchy-feely or over the top pageantry?

…

“Here comes a thought that might alarm you,  
What someone said and how it harmed you.  
Something you did that failed to be charming,  
Things that you said are suddenly swarming.  
And, oh, you’re losing sight… uh…”

Logan trailed off. Virgil had lifted his head at last and was making eye contact, which was good, but he was looking at him with an intensely disbelieving look. It was better than panic, at least, but it was still uncomfortable.

“Are you… singing _Here Comes a Thought_ from Steven Universe?”

“I think you’ll find I was not _singing,_ but giving a spoken word rendition of… that song, yes.”

_“Why?”_

“It seemed that, in addition to my logical arguments that it could prove useful. Is it not?”

Virgil stared, but Logan thought he could see a shadow, the beginning of a smile trying to come through. He shrugged. “I dunno. It’s certainly _distracting_ if nothing else.”

Logan hesitated, feeling a little out of his depth. “Would you prefer that I continue, then?”

Virgil shrugged, a definite smirk on his face, now. He was amused by his attempt to comfort, his choice in song or both. In any case, he certainly seemed better. It would hardly hurt to continue, then. It would be good to be certain Virgil really was better before he left.

He cleared his throat.

“Take a moment, remind yourself,  
To take a moment and find yourself.  
Take a moment and ask yourself,  
If this is how we fall apart.  
But it’s not, but it’s not, but it’s not, but it’s not, but it’s not.  
It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.  
You’ve got nothing, got nothing, got nothing, got nothing to fear.  
I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.”

**Author's Note:**

> …I am trash.
> 
> I will probably never write for Sander’s Sides again, but I just enjoyed the idea of Logic comforting Anxiety, as that tends to be what happens whenever I experience a panic attack.


End file.
